Текст песни Requiem for Black Benjy in 2 Parts (Vinnie Paz) с переводом

I’m Pavarotti with a shotty

Move the Charlie while I’m still part of the Little Rhody

The bricks is like Basmati we chop them like did karate

My shorty draped in a saree like Saraswati

To make a long story short I caught a body

This carajito couldn’t embody what I embody

He rubs shoulders with Stalin like Togliatti

yellow and it look like Vanaspati

The Black Hills ammunition hotter than wasabi

I call Black Banners and I fly to Abu Dhabi

Scoop me at the ADI in the Maserati

Staring at a lithograph of Raja Ravi

In a courtroom cocky like I’m Gotti

It’s over half a milion bodies in Makati

I puff on Afghan like Shah Durrani

The bullets in the armory look like a hot tamale

I’m ridin' in a bucket with the roman candles

Lookin' for your favorite rapper, rockin' open sandles

Roll the window down I’m throwing pólvora

Now your mami stressed, screamin' out «Ojalá»

Squeezing in your mouth no Orajel, send you all to hell

Shit still on a scale 'cause my mixtape doin' sorta well

I can still win a Cy Young the moment the pie come

Try some, you’ll be Harlem shakin' 'til your mind numb

Verses crack ounces of piff, I got all kind of dope

If I get low fiends lickin' the baggy like an envelope

Labels ain’t cutting a check, so I cop sarin gas

Garfield Thanksgiving Day Parade’s how I’m airin' cats

Wear a mask in October and every other holiday

Stock your face if I heard that he chopping base and got the papes

Run upon you, I already told you my blood is Goya

This spic take enough work to terrify a Trump supporter

Whoa

Part 2

I stack money hand over head

Ask about the god, I’m the man in the

I’m hotter then Louisiana Hot Sauce

Take you hostage, ain’t no bridges where you getting dropped off

Uh, I’m rockin' furs for the winter

Uh, as I emerge from this printer

I grab the mic and turn MCs to dinner

Walk up on you and shred you like Master Splinter

I’m buying guns like the military

Armor piercing rounds put you in the cemetery

I like the bread but I got more rolls

Reading books just to help me through this cold world

I walk around with the angel of death

Make you pay me with money and make you pay me respect

Ain’t no funny business, have you smiling by the neck

Never leave the fort without throwing on the TEC

Look, dry snitching is a lonely disease

This is shells of money homie, macaroni and cheese

This is luxury, we eating Avalonian peas

Dumb muhfucka, get some and read

Listen home is you ridin' or what?

He talking to ops, homie, he be trying his luck

Y’all ain’t getting' nothin' B, I’m not providing nathan'

I greet my brother peacefully it’s «As-salāmu ʿalaykum»

Turn this muhfucka to a horror scene

The periquito yellow B, it look like it’s a quarantine

I’m all about my motherfuckin' spinach, chicken florentine

Doctrine of divine illumination, Santo Augustine

The gravedigger gonna teach you how to move the dirt

And jefe gon' have to teach you how to move the work

This .40 praying homie and she dying to pop

Momma told me I should strike while the iron is hot

Battyman!

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